


political abyss

by washingtononyourside



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: <-- yall r cowards bc that isnt a real tag yet, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Politics, Canon Era, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Historical Inaccuracy, Human Disaster George Washington, LGBTQ Themes, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Political Alliances, Wakes & Funerals, Weddings, thomas really hates philadelphia. sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingtononyourside/pseuds/washingtononyourside
Summary: For the rest of the nation, being a member of President Washington’s Cabinet represents otherworldliness. To be in such a close proximity to the most beloved man in the country should be a dream come true, but for Thomas Jefferson, it’s an absolute nightmare: there are no members of his party that he can turn to, the president refuses to take his ideas into account, and, worst of all, he absolutely despises the man that the president does choose to listen to.But then, a turn of events leaves the Cabinet fractured– and gives him the advantage that he needs to bring himself closer than ever to achieving his goals.





	political abyss

**Author's Note:**

> i was gonna update my other au before i published this one, but then i got writers block for that one, so here we are! apparently my new thing is writing canon era aus that arent really fix-its, but at the same time they are? idk. i already have this entire story outlined, and i plan to update it at least once a week, but who knows what'll happen!
> 
> other notes/warnings:
> 
> \- i feel like before i actually go into anything else i should clarify that while this is a multi-pov story where you'll see a lot of character's perspectives in plot, i consider jefferson to be the main protagonist of this story. is he going to a likable protagonist? maybe. it really just depends on how much you like him in the musical. but he is THE protagonist, so.. yeah. get ready for him to be a disaster!
> 
> \- this story is set in the canon era of the musical, so i should probably mention that washington, jefferson, madison and co. still own slaves and call them """servants""" because they're trash so.. you know! tread lightly. the idea of abolitionism will be also discussed at length in some parts of the story, but since almost all of the characters in the story own slaves and all of them are complicit in the continuation of the slave trade, don't expect them to be enlightened about it.
> 
> \- there are lgbt+ themes and characters in this story, and since it's the 18th century.. well, you know. i'll put warnings before every chapter that has homophobia/transphobia.
> 
> \- a major character death occurs within the first five chapters of this story, and this character death puts the rest of the story's plot in motion – hence why i consider it a major character death and not a minor character death. this is also where the graphic descriptions of illness and corpses comes in, so i'll be sure to tag those in the notes before the chapter it occurs.
> 
> \- james madison should have had a solo song in the musical. i will die on this hill
> 
> enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas hates Philadelphia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is alternatively titled "fear and loathing in philadelphia".
> 
> notes & warnings:  
> -there are a lot of characters that werent in the musical in this story, so with that, plus the fact that i use different face-claims than the obc for some of the characters that were in the musical, face-claims will be listed in beginning and end notes of each chapter!  
> -there's some mild homophobia in this chapter. it's a blink and you'll miss it sort of thing, but it's still there nonetheless.
> 
> faceclaims:
> 
> thomas jefferson - [daveed diggs](https://m.wsj.net/video/20160603/060316diggsinterviewpartone/060316diggsinterviewpartone_960x540.jpg)  
> james madison - [okieriete onaodowan](https://2j29m13d0esqmrduc3h1lx97-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/James-Madison_Okieriete-Onaodowan.jpg)  
> alexander hamilton - [michael luwoye](https://newimages.bwwstatic.com/upload12/1763733/files/tn-500_michaelluwoye-hamiltonnationaltour\(c\)joanmarcus.jpg)  
> george washington - [christopher jackson](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f7/55/08/f7550877bbae7462df20b55351237e95.jpg)  
> henry knox - [james monroe iglehart](https://static.playbill.com/dims4/default/4824ac2/2147483647/crop/2352x1324%2B0%2B347/resize/970x546/quality/90/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fplaybill-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2F7b%2F18%2F931932df4c4a894d79559fdecec5%2Fhamilton-broadway-production-photo-2018-17-4hamiltonbway0032r-james-monroe-iglehart-and-thayne-jasperson-hr.jpg)

_**Part I: Wheel of Fortune** _

* * *

**July, 1793**

Philadelphia will always hold a place in Thomas’s heart as the city that he hates most of all.

There are, of course, other cities that he despises more than he can put into words– London, Annapolis, and New York to name a few– but the pure, unadulterated loathing that he feels for Philadelphia can be dwarfed by nothing and no one. He supposes that his disdain for Philadelphia stems from the fact that despite having been in residence in Philadelphia multiple times over the course of his political and personal life, he has yet to recall a single positive memory of something that happened to him while he was in Philadelphia; all of his most prominent memories of the city are either highly negative or, at the very least, embarrassing memories that he would rather forget.

He wishes that he could be at Monticello right about now, taking in the cool air of the Virginian summer and relaxing in his parlor with a bottle from Cicero and a cup of his favorite French wine, but alas, he’s been forced to spend his summer in his own personal purgatory, and all thanks to that ambitious louse Alexander Hamilton.

Of all of the people that he could be forced to work with on a near daily basis, Thomas is of the opinion that Hamilton is the worst possible candidate; his ambition for power is undeniable, and his skill in the political game is even worse than that gibberish that he calls his ‘writing.’ It isn’t like this is a well-kept secret, either– everyone with eyes and a bit of common sense can see that Hamilton is a power-hungry rat. That is, of course, everyone except for the president; the man whose opinion on Hamilton matters most of all. It would be an extreme understatement to say that he resents Hamilton: no, if he could have his way, that man would be burning in Hell where he belongs.

Thomas huffs irritably as he presses his personal seal into the wax on his most recent letter to the president, his thumb roaming over the base of the seal as he waits for it to set. In truth, the letter is a resignation letter, so he has no intention of sending it just yet, as he still wishes to at least _attempt_ to make progress with his job. Next to the letter is a letter that the president sent him not a few hours ago, requesting his presence at the latest Cabinet meeting so that try may settle more terms of the recent neutrality proclamation with the Supreme Court. His stomach churns at the thought of the neutrality proclamation, which he all but considers to be an attempt by the Federalist Party to have them licking British boots again– not that Washington actually cares what he thinks, despite the pathetic attempts by him to delude Thomas into thinking that he does care. So much for ‘ _always and sincerely yours._ ’

Thomas scoops all of the necessary documents up into his arms and lets out a loud, heaving sigh that slowly degenerates into a yawn. _It is much too early for this,_ he thinks, his shoes clicking down against the wooden floors as he walks down the stairs and into the main parlor. He sets two of the many folded and sealed papers on the small table in the parlor room; one of them is a note explaining to Polly– she calls herself Maria now, but she’ll always be his little Polly– where he is and when he expects to be back, and the other is a note for her to read to the servants with their instructions for the day’s work. Hopefully, he’ll be able to come home earlier than he expects, but with the length of the Cabinet’s meetings these days, doing extra work after with James and the carriage rides to and from his summer home, he’s not too optimistic about it.

Oh well. At least he’ll be able to spend some time at home tomorrow.

“You look tired,” James says to him as he walks outside, leaning against the side of his carriage with a plain look on his face. He frowns; he doesn’t need the constant reminder that he only slept for three hours last night, _especially_ since he hasn’t eaten yet.

“I thought that we were going to match,” He huffs out, sliding into the carriage as James holds the door open for him. “I get dressed in my best outfit for you, and you don’t even bother to wear the matching one.”

“No, _you_ thought that we were going to match,” James corrects him, climbing into the carriage after him and shutting the door. He turns to Thomas and looks him up and down. “ _I_ said that I would wear whatever I felt like wearing, hence why I’m wearing black.”

“Yeah, but you always wear black, and now I’m going to look like a fool in front of everyone,” Thomas pouts. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear some color once in a while– plus, that green suit that I bought you matches your skin tone so well.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that you’ll look a fool in front of a group of your peers,” James grimaces and steadies himself against Thomas as the carriage starts moving. “And I think that you’ll understand that I would rather eat glass than wear Hamilton’s favorite color.”

Thomas sighs and nods understandably. Hamilton ruins everything these days, but luckily he’s secure with the knowledge that he’ll always have better fashion taste than him. His clothes might be overly flamboyant and flashy, but at least not to the point of being _tacky._

“Well, you look better in green than him anyways.” He mumbles, slowly starting to lean over until his and James’s foreheads touch. The smile that had started to appear on his face quickly turns into a frown once James pulls his forehead away and shakes his head.

“Are you still feeling unwell?” He questions, his tone leaving no room for any lies or excuses. Not that Thomas can blame him for being so intense– if his own health was still as precarious as James’s health is, he would take every precaution, too.

Thomas shakes his head. “I have a pain in my head, but it’s practically gone now,” He starts to lean back in, only for James to shake his head again and pat his leg instead.

“I think that we should talk about your strategy for today,” James moves his head away and reaches over to take the folded papers out of his hands. “What are these for?”

He takes a deep breath in. For a moment, he debates about whether or not he should tell James the truth, but then it hits him that no matter how much he wants to or how hard he tries, he can never, _ever_ lie to James. Not only would he never betray his trust like that,– he isn’t Hamilton– but James knows him too well and at this point he’ll be more likely to realize that he’s lying than anyone. “Promise that you won’t be angry with me,” He says finally, staring down at the floor of the carriage so that he won’t have to meet James’s eyes and see the disappointment on his face.

“I promise.”

“Well, two of those papers are for the meeting today, since Washington wants us to submit these questions about the nation’s neutrality to the Supreme Court,” Thomas twiddles his thumbs, “But the last one is.. erm.. a resignation letter.”

He braces himself for a shocked gasp, or some sign that James is upset or another, but instead James is silent. It takes every ounce of willpower that Thomas has not to look up and see the expression on James’s face, just so he can try and figure out what he’s feeling and how he processes it: the silence on James’s end is all but unsettling. 

“Okay.” James nods and pats his thigh with his other hand. “Good for you, Thomas.”

Oh. He was not expecting _that_. “So, you aren’t upset with me for thinking about resigning?”

“No.”

“I thought that you would be upset with me,” He admits, rather embarrassed at the thought now that he knows that James isn’t upset with him. He probably should have realized that James wouldn’t be upset with him, at least not outwardly, but sometimes he gets so caught up in his emotions that he forgets to be practical. But it’s not like James can judge him for that; sometimes, he gets so distracted with his pessimism that he forgets to look on the bright side of stuff– it’s one of the many things that he loves about him.

James shrugs indifferently. “After I realized when even you weren’t enough to steer Washington and Hamilton off of their course, I figured that it wouldn’t be a matter of _if_ you would resign, only when.In truth, I initially thought that you would have done it by now.”

“Well, I’m not planning to resign _yet_. I’m just.. weighing my options.”

“What options do you think that you have? It isn’t like Washington listens to you, and he certainly refuses to listen to me these days.”

“I know! I just don’t want to give up hope yet,” Thomas tries to reassure himself that he believes what he’s saying as he sighs and closes his eyes. “I think that if I can just show him how much of a deceiving, power-hungry _snake_ Hamilton really is, then maybe, just _maybe,_ Washington will see reason and listen to me for once.”

He opens his eyes again to James frowning. “It isn’t that simple, Thomas.” He moves his hand from Thomas’s thigh and lets it flop down beside him while he turns away from his gaze. “The problem is that the president _is_ fully aware of Hamilton’s ambition and ill-temperedness. He’s just so convinced of Hamilton’s _genius_ ,” He scoffs, “That he refuses to do anything about it, despite how unstable Hamilton makes both the political scene and the nation with his delusions of his own importance.”

“You’re so pessimistic. Do you not have faith in me?”

“Of course I have faith in you– it’s Washington that I have no faith in. And not pessimistic,” James counters, “Pragmatic.”

“Well, maybe you should stop looking at things so realistically,” Thomas teases and sticks out his tongue, a grin spreading across his face as James snorts and starts to laugh.

“Or, you could try and look at things more realistically.” He hands him back the papers and leans his head over so that it rests on Thomas’s shoulder, then lets out a large sigh. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up for something again and then get upset when you’re let down. You have a habit of doing that, you know.”

Thomas starts to say something to refute him, but then he realizes that James is right; he _is_ too optimistic and hopeful about certain things, but he’ll take his blind optimism over James’s extreme pragmatism any day. As much as he loves James and is willing to do anything for him, he would rather die than have his outlook of the world rot as much as James’s has.

“Yeah, but this time it’s different. Washington respects me– barely,” he amends, “but he still does. And if I can provoke Hamilton in some way, then I think that just _maybe_ I can convince him to listen to me when I try and warn him about how manipulative Hamilton is.”

“Provoke Hamilton? To violence?”

“It’s a brilliant plan, isn’t it?” Thomas puffs his chest out and smiles proudly. “We’ve had our arguments, yeah, but it’s never turned _violent_. And if he gets violent with me..”

“Then you think that it’ll show Washington that he should listen to you more.” James cuts him off, his hand rising to his chin as if he were contemplating about something, “I think that your plan has the potential to succeed, but I think that it can also go horribly wrong.” He says finally, his voice flat. “We both know how you get when you feel like you’re being attacked, and I fear that it might end with _you_ getting violent with Hamilton.”

“It won’t. I actually have manners, and a good set of morals, thank you very much.”

James snorts. “Do you, though?”

“I do!” He declares, nudging him playfully and then crossing his arms. “And I’m offended that you think I don’t.”

“Be offended then.” James smiles and nudges him back, then quickly reaches and grabs his jacket as the carriage comes to a fast halt.

Huh. That carriage trip seemed shorter than usual; or maybe it’s just that spending time and talking with James makes the time fly by faster. Either way, he absolutely dreads what’s about to happen. He waits for James’s servant to open the carriage door before he steps out, grabbing James by the hand and helping him out afterwards. As they walk towards the door of the Presidential Mansion, he sighs loudly and looks back at James. “So, do you think that I could take Hamilton in a fight?” 

“Well, you have a height and weight advantage, but Hamilton was a soldier– hi, Samuel,” He greets Washington’s steward as he opens the door and leads them into the foyer, “So you might have to look out for him on that aspect, but I doubt that he’ll be able to do anything to you without a weapon.” He pats his shoulder and lowers his voice down to a whisper, “If anything, aim for his dick.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He tries, and fails, to suppress a yawn. Christ alive, why does Washington always call their meetings so early? 

Speak of the devil, there he is. He plasters a fake smile onto his face as Washington descends from the stairs, looking at James out of the corner of his eye to see what facial expression he was making. God, now he feels stupid for smiling.

“Secretary Jefferson,” Washington smiles warmly, holding out his hand for Thomas to shake. “You’re just in time. The Attorney General couldn’t make it, but Secretaries Hamilton and Knox are already here, and we-“

“Uh huh.” Thomas says blandly, shaking Washington’s hand once and then letting it drop, “Are you not going to address my colleague, Mister President?” He quickly wipes his hand against his coat in disgust once Washington turns to James.

“Mister Madison, of course,” He holds out his hand again for James, letting it fall after he doesn’t shake his hand, and smiles sorrowfully, “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Mister Madison, but I’m afraid that this will be a private meeting. And, since you aren’t a member of my Cabinet, I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to leave for now.”

“If you think that you’re fooling me with that fake smile and sugarcoated dismissal, then you’re wrong,” James says bluntly, his face staying emotionless despite the shocked expressions on both Thomas and Washington’s faces, “Am I to understand that you called this meeting with your Cabinet to discuss questions that you’ll forward to the Supreme Court Justices, Mister President?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, Mister Madison. As I said, I’m holding a closed meeting with my Cabinet officers, and I-“

James cuts him off. “Because I’m sure that you of all people know that the Constitution clearly states that the president is allowed to call on the nation’s Cabinet members, like our dear Secretary Jefferson here, for advice and opinions on official executive matters; and _only_ members of the Cabinet.” He pauses to cough into his handkerchief, “So, unless you’d like me to tell all of my fellow members of the House of Representatives that you encouraged– no, commanded– your Cabinet to disrupt the balance system of our government by going to the judicial branch on a matter that doesn’t concern them, I strongly suggest that you lead me and Secretary Jefferson into that room... Mister President.” He finishes, then smiles up at Washington like he never said a word.

Thomas can’t stop himself from smiling, and he turns his head back to Washington, barely suppressing a laugh at the man’s still shocked expression. As Washington turns around without saying a word and leads them up the stairs, he turns to James excitedly. “What has gotten into you?” He whispers, nudging his head in Washington’s direction.

“I’m guessing that Hamilton thinks you won’t do as well if I’m not there.” James whispers back and rolls his eyes, “And I’m not in the mood to deal with that, so I shut his argument down _real_ quick.”

“What?” Thomas asks, surprised. “Why?”

James shrugs. “He probably brought it up to Washington while they were waiting, and you _know_ how he is. Always willing to disregard the rules if it’s an advantage for him, but if anyone else does, then it becomes the end of the world.”

“As if Washington’s bias towards him isn’t already an advantage in itself.” He scoffs, masking it as a cough when Washington turns around to look at them right before they walk into his larger study.

“Oh God,” Hamilton mumbles– well, _tries_ to mumble– as Washington leads them in, his facial expression immediately falling as Thomas makes eye contact with him.

“Hamilton.” Thomas says through gritted teeth, barely able to hide the contempt in his tone.

“Jefferson.” Hamilton changes his posture so that he’s sitting straight up, not losing eye contact with Thomas as walks over to his usual seat and sits down, while James stands next to him.

Thomas rolls his eyes. “Hi, Henry,” He smiles, completely disregarding Hamilton’s continued stare and turning to face Henry Knox, who looks thoroughly invested in the miniature showdown that he just had with Hamilton. “Do you mind moving over a chair, so that Mister Madison can sit?”

“I’m fine with standing.” James reassures him and turns to face Washington, “Go on. Just pretend that I’m not even here.”

“Thank you, for that, Mister Madison.” Washington coughs, trying to hide the fact that he’s clearly uncomfortable. “Now, I assume that you’ve all prepared your questions already. Secretary Knox,” he turns his head, “How many questions did you manage?”

Knox shrugs. “I couldn’t think of anything at the present, but I am interested in hearing the ideas of Secretary Hamilton and Secretary Jefferson.”

“I came up with seven.” Thomas shuffles through the three letters in his hand and places the one with his questions on the table, “They’re mostly about things like the ports and other issues with France, but I-”

“Well, _I_ came up with twenty-one.” Hamilton announces proudly, holding the paper up so that everyone can see it. “I’d like to read them aloud, if you don’t mind, Mister President.”

As Hamilton starts to ramble on about how he came up with each question, or some other irrelevant thing that he doesn’t feel like paying attention to, Knox leans over to him and sighs. “If he starts to read them aloud, I’ll literally go and jump out of that giant window over there.” He whispers, crossing his arms over his chest and motioning to the window with his head.

“I _know_ !” Thomas whispers back with a scoff and an eye roll. “He’s such a show-off. Twenty one questions, and for what? He shouldn’t even get a say in this– it’s about foreign relations with powers at war! This matter is _our_ turf, not the Treasury’s.”

“I agree,” Knox sighs again. “Alexander is my friend and all, and we do agree on most of the political issues, but he’s always so adamant on butting in and giving his opinion on the affairs of the State and War Departments. But if we try to give our opinions on matters in the Treasury...”

“He says that it’s none of our business and we need to stay out of it.” Thomas finishes, speaking simultaneously with Knox, who huffs in frustration.

“And it’s not like I can talk to anybody else about this,” He pauses and lowers his voice to a point where Thomas can barely hear him, “Washington– as much as I admire him– just stands back and allows it, and refuses to hear any criticism against him. And Ned doesn’t even bother to show up for meetings most times.”

“Or do his job in the first place,” Thomas says bluntly, snorting as Knox struggles to stifle his laughter. 

Hearing Knox’s attempt to stifle his laughter and Thomas’s snort, Washington raises an eyebrow. “Is there something that you would like to say, Secretary Jefferson?”

Wow. Of course _he_ gets in trouble for something that he didn’t even start, but now that he has the floor, he might as well make use of it. “Actually, I think that I should read mine first.” He says, straightening his posture out and smiling as he sees Hamilton start to glare at him, “Secretary Hamilton has more questions prepared than I do, so I think that it would be best to get mine out of the way first before he reads his.”

“Well, my questions are all in a specific order, which I doubt yours are.” Hamilton stops glaring and smiles back to him– too smug, in his opinion– and holds up the piece of paper again, “Not to mention, I have more points than the ones that I have written down, and I’ll need time to explain and articulate what I’m trying to say.”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “I’ll have you know that my questions _are_ in a specific order, and that I’ll also need time to articulate what I have to say. Not to mention that I talk faster than you, thank you very much.”

“Well, y’know what? You may talk faster than me, but none of the shit that you say ever makes any sense!”

“Oh, what _I_ say never makes any sense? Me? Let’s take a look at all of your run-on sentences, Secretary Hamilton, and then we’ll see who doesn’t make sense!”

“Now I know that you two are not about to start arguing about who gets to read off of a piece of paper first,” James mumbles.

“I’m not,” Thomas takes a deep breath in and shuts his eyes as he tries to calm down. “I’m just saying, that it would make more sense for me to read my stuff first.”

“And I’m just saying that it would make sense for _me_ to read _my_ stuff first. I asked first.” 

“Secretary Hamilton did ask first,” Washington says finally, turning his head to address Hamilton, “You have the floor, Secretary Hamilton.”

“Are you fucking _serious_? I swear to God, what I wouldn’t give to-”

“Thank you, Mister President,” Hamilton clears his throat and holds up the piece of paper. “So, my first question is about whether or not France will..”

Thomas starts to drown Hamilton out at that point, because judging by the way that his hands are clenched tightly on the other two papers in his hand, he’ll end up strangling that man if he has to concentrate on one more word that comes out of his mouth. He also forces himself to look away from Washington, for fear that he’ll end up strangling him, too. The way that his bias towards Hamilton shows is so damn infuriating sometimes. So what if he asked first? If Washington ran his meetings based on who asked or suggested something first, the government’s policies would be mostly _his_ ideas.

At least now he knows that Knox is just as dissatisfied with Hamilton’s increased influence over Washington as he is. He might be an ardent Federalist, just like the weasel himself, but as far as Thomas can tell, Knox has no political ambition or wish to further the prestige of his department any more than what’s already been established. It’s a nice contrast to Hamilton, who only seems to care about how far him and that godforsaken Treasury Department of his can go, so Thomas feels relieved that Knox has the decency and common sense not to be as much of a self-seeker as Hamilton is.

His gaze shifts over to Hamilton again. He’s still drowning him out, but his eyes continue to watch his movement keenly. Thomas tries to ignore the fact that his hands have started to shake with rage as that bastard continues to talk about.. whatever it is that bastard is talking about, and finally he forces himself to look down at his papers in order to calm himself down again.

If only the ship that carried Hamilton to America had sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic.

He turns his head around to face James once he pokes him. The smile on his face is reassuring, and he softly mouths ‘watch me’ to Thomas before sneakily pointing his finger at Hamilton. Oh, whatever is about to happen is going to be _interesting_.

“And then my next question is, whether or not we should permit France to sell merchandise at our ports that they might have taken from British or Spanish ships; like slaves, and..”

James coughs loudly, cutting Hamilton off mid-sentence. “My apologies, Secretary Hamilton.” He frowns, “Carry on.”

Hamilton huffs and turns back to his paper. “So, as I was saying: would we allow the French to sell things that they took from the British and the Spanish at our ports? Because on one hand, _we_ aren’t selling the st-"

“I don’t know what’s come over me,” James sighs as he starts to cough loudly again, hiding what Thomas guesses is a smile behind his handkerchief.

“Whatever, Madison, just calm that coughing down so I can finish my point.” Hamilton grits his teeth as he speaks, looking back down at his paper again. “Where was I? Oh, yeah, _we_ wouldn’t be the ones selling the stuff, but the British and the Spanish might take offense to us permitting the sale of stolen goo- I swear to fucking God, Madison,” He sets down the paper, “If you don’t stop it with those fake ass coughs, I’ll..”

“Secretary Hamilton.” James interrupts, his voice and his facial expression void of any emotion, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My health issues are well-known, and have been for years. I’m appalled that you would imply that I’m faking my illness.”

“I just think that it’s real convenient that you keep coughing whenever I say something,” Hamilton crosses his arms over his chest and glares at him.

James rolls his eyes. “I can’t control when my coughs strike, Secretary Hamilton. I suggest that you stop acting like the entire world revolves around you and whatever you’re up to, and especially not my personal life and the problems that I have with my health– it makes you look petty and resentful, and like I can’t do anything without you making a false accusation about me.”

Hamilton quickly rises to his feet, his chair toppling over from under him. “Oh, you want petty and resentful? I’ll _show_ you petty and resentful, you lame, pretentious, son of a-“

“Secretary Hamilton!” Washington starts to cut in, only for James to raise his hand to signal him to stop speaking.

“Thank you for trying to intervene, Mister President, but let me assure you that it’s quite alright.” James says calmly, coughing into his handkerchief and then sighing in disappointment. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time that Secretary Hamilton has unnecessarily attacked me for things outside of my control, and I doubt that it will be the last.”

Hamilton scoffs. “You think that I _attacked_ you? God, how fucking delusional can you be?”

Surprisingly, James’s face twists into a small smile as Hamilton takes in a deep breath and scowls. “Thank you for proving my point, Secretary Hamilton.”

“Oh, you know what, Madison?” Hamilton takes a step towards James, his fists clenching tightly. “I’m so sick and tired of you walking around, acting like you’re so much better than everyone else here and you own the place. You’re the blandest person that I know!”

“I find it laughable that you think that _I_ act like I own the place, when that horrendous green coat that you insist on wearing everyday because you think that it makes you look rich and important says the same about you.”

Oh _damn._ “Ooooooooooooh, you just got _toooooold_ ,” Thomas says in his sing-song voice, clapping his hands gently and grinning up at James.

“Stay out of it, Jefferson!” Hamilton whips his head around to face him. “You don’t have the right to talk about _anyone’s_ clothes, considering that ugly ass pink that you like to flaunt yourself around in. Do your daughters know that you raid their closet?”

“For the last time, it’s not pink, it’s magenta! Pink and magenta are two different colors!”

“Oh yeah? Well between your hideous coat and that bird’s nest that you call hair, you look like a fucking clown!”

Thomas slams his papers down on the table and rises from his seat. “ _My_ hair looks like a bird’s nest? Mine? Your shit is so nappy that just looking at it makes me flinch in pain! Maybe you should try putting some oils and a comb through that hot mess before you try and talk about anyone else’s hair.”

Hamilton scoffs. “Like you even do your own hair!” He says, his voice sounding incredulous at the very idea, “You and I both know that you probably just get your slaves to do it for you, just like everything else in your life.”

“Secretary Hamilton…” Washington starts to say something, but then he trails off as Thomas starts to laugh and shake his head.

“First of all, ain’t nobody ever gonna lay a finger on this high quality hair.” He twirls one of his hair’s coils in his hand then lets it go loose, “Secondly, I know that _you_ aren’t going to talk to _me_ about the fact that I have servants,” He snorts, “You’re such a hypocrite. Tell me, Hamilton, does the rest of the Cabinet know that you have to rent slaves out from your friends and borrow them from your rich daddy-in-law because you’re too broke to be able to buy your own?”

“Ooooh,” James snickers, then coughs into his handkerchief.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Hamilton balls his hands back into fists and takes a step towards Thomas, to which Knox stands up and steps in between them with his back to Thomas.

“Okay, why don’t we all just calm down?” He holds his hands up, then tries to motion Hamilton back towards his seat. “Here, Alex, why don’t you..”

Hamilton sighs in frustration. “Look, Knox, I don’t mean no disrespect, but who the fuck asked for your opinion? Because I’m pretty sure that I didn’t, and neither did Jefferson.”

Well, that _is_ true, but he likes Knox well enough to not jump in and agree with Hamilton after Hamilton surprisingly leans to the right of Knox’s body and looks at him for backup. “Hey, leave me out of this,” He says, holding his hands up in a similar fashion to Knox.

“Well _I_ was just trying to help calm everybody down, so that we can actually stay on track for once,” Knox’s tone is remarkably bitter, something that takes Thomas by surprise. “You’re my friend, Alexander, but we can never get through meetings without something happening because you always try and pick fights with Secretary Jefferson. Can you just calm down for once in your life so that we can finish what we were doing?”

“So now it’s my fault that we can never get through meetings? Well, you know what? It’s not like you ever contribute anything to these meetings anyways! All you do is sit around looking like a lost puppy until Washington says something, and even then you just go along with whatever he says. But whenever I try to actually speak my mind, you step in and say that I’m going too far, or that I’m picking fights. So, in conclusion, you can _kindly_ kiss the blackest part of my ass!”

Oh _shit._ Thomas makes eye contact with James for a single moment, trying to get just a hint of what he’s thinking, but the look on James’s face tells him everything that he needs to know: shit’s about to go _down._

“Well, look at the pot calling the kettle black!” Knox opens and closes his hands several times, as if deciding whether or not he wants to ball them into fists or not. “You wanna talk about _me_ looking to Washington like a lost puppy? Ever since you joined Washington’s staff during the war you’ve been relying on him and your wife’s family for patronage in whatever endeavor you’ve gotten yourself into. And you know what? At least I became the Secretary of War on my own! The only reason that you were invited to the Philadelphia Convention and half of the shit going on in New York politics is because your rich daddy-in-law pulled some strings and got you in– and you weren’t even Washington’s first choice for Treasury Secretary.”

“You tell him, Henry,” James calls out from beside him.

At that, Hamilton shifts his attention back to James. “Now I know that you of all people aren’t about to co-sign Fatty McFatterson, like you didn’t sell me out to go and play lackey to that piece of shit that you call a friend. Tell me, Madison, do you ever get tired of being such an unreliable turncoat?”

“Don’t you talk to him like that!” Thomas takes a step closer to Hamilton, but James grabs his sleeve and pulls him back to where he was. “You’d better keep James’s name out of your mouth, Hamilton.”

“Oh, so now Mister National Gazette is gonna preach to us about keeping people’s names out of their mouth?”

Thomas doesn’t even know what he said after that. In truth, he stopped listening to the inner voice telling him to calm down and started to see red, so he just assumes that he, Hamilton and Knox go at it for a while– well, really, he assumes that he and Knox go at Hamilton for a while while he continues to throw petty insults at them. He at least knows that he probably got pretty angry, because soon enough he can feel James’s arms wrap around him and try to pull him back away from a seething Hamilton. What the fuck did he just say or do? God, he doesn’t even want to know at this point.

Whatever he did must have made Washington pissed, though, because he finally stands up and starts to.. shout? Scream? He can’t really tell, nor can he bring himself to particularly care about whatever he’s saying to Hamilton now. At this point, he’s just so angry that everything except James letting go of him seems foreign, so he tries to calm himself down so that he can focus on whatever he _knows_ is coming for him.

“And as for you, Secretary Jefferson,” Washington gives him a pointed look, “I expected more from you. You’re the oldest member of this Cabinet after myself, yet you can’t seem to control yourself like a man of your years should be able to. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Going to Hamilton’s defense all of the time and putting me down whenever I try to help out isn’t going to make me want to hatefuck you, you know,” he blurts out before he could stop himself. When he realizes that he just said that aloud, his eyes widen in shock and he quickly puts his hand up to his mouth.

God fucking dammit. So much for calming down. He can’t even see what Washington’s expression is, mostly because his gaze is forcefully fixed on the incredulous looks on Knox and Hamilton’s faces as it sinks in that he _really_ just said that out loud, but he can hear the contempt in Washington’s voice as he asks everyone in the room to leave so that the two of them can have a _little talk_.

His mother’s been dead for seventeen years now, and he’s been an adult for over thirty-two, but even now, he’s still afraid of _little talks._ The way that James mournfully wishes him good luck as he retreats from the room doesn’t help, either.

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out almost immediately after everyone else leaves the room, forcing himself to make eye contact with Washington as he talks. “That was inappropriate of me to say.”

“It was,” Washington says dryly.

“I didn’t mean it.” He shifts uncomfortably, then moves to sit on the table once he sees that Washington won’t object to it.

“I know.”

And now he’s giving him the short answer treatment. Just how much stuff did him and James pick up from each other while he was in France? “It’s just that I was angry– I’m tired and hungry, too.” He adds, rubbing his eyes a bit. As soon as he gets home, he’s going to sleep.

Washington is silent for a moment, but eventually, his face softens and he nods understandably. “I forgive you.” He says. “I know how you feel. I get irritable when I’m tired, too.”

Thomas snorts. “You must always be tired, then.” He grins as Washington starts to laugh, then takes a deep breath in and out. “Look, Mister President…”

“George, please.”

“Okay, George,” He sighs. It almost feels weird calling him by his first name again; he hasn’t done it in over two years, ever since he signed that godforsaken bank bill of Hamilton’s into law, so it’ll likely take him a bit of getting used to again. “How long have we known each other now?”

“Over twenty years, if my math is right.” Washington smiles distantly, as if he were having nostalgia from something in his boyhood. “We were different people back then. I wasn’t a general yet, you weren’t married..”

“And you still had all of your hair,” Thomas laughs and shakes his head. “I remember you used to be so damn talkative during those meetings at the Assembly– and _I_ was the quieter one.”

Washington nods. “I remember perfectly. You were so shy that you only spoke up when we were talking about certain issues, and you asked your cousins to speak for you on everything else.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Oh God, _please_ don’t tell James about that. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Well, I don’t think that Mister Madison and I will be talking about much of anything any time soon,” He laughs awkwardly, then trails off as Thomas frowns.

He feels like such an idiot for almost forgetting about exactly where he is, who he’s talking to, and what’s been happening, even if it was only for a brief moment. And, as painful as it is, he forces himself to remember that Washington isn’t his friend; at least, not anymore. “Why do you always side with Hamilton?” He asks, his tone accusatory and his face still fixed into a frown.

“What?” Washington looks bewildered. What are you talking about?”

“You heard me. Why do you always side with Hamilton over me?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Thomas takes another deep breath to keep himself calm. “Every time we have a meeting with the Cabinet, or even just when you write to us asking for advice. You _always_ take Hamilton’s side.”

Washington goes silent again. “No, I don’t.” He turns away for a moment and shuffles through the papers that were sitting in front of his seat. Then, he turns back to face Thomas and hands him one of the papers. “Here. It’s a list of all of the times that I’ve disagreed with Secretary Hamilton.”

Thomas sighs and crumples it up. “You know,” He tosses it behind him, “The fact that you keep this on hand with you, and the fact that you had to make a list to count the amount of times you’ve disagreed with him in the first place isn’t helping your case at all.”

“You said that I always side with Hamilton over you. I showed you that I don’t.”

“Well, Mister President, the fact remains that you do an overwhelming majority of the time.” 

That must have come off more rudely than he intended it to, because it doesn’t take long for Washington’s face to harden. “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” Thomas snaps suddenly. “I know it, you know it, and Hamilton knows it. Hell, even Henry Knox agrees, and he’s on _your_ side!”

“I don’t have a side, Secretary Jefferson.”

“Oh, please, you can’t fool me with that ‘I don’t have a side’ bullshit. Everyone knows that you’re in with the Federalists. I’m the _only_ member of my party in this Cabinet, and nearly all of your major appointments have been Federalists.”

Washington huffs irritably. “I only choose the most capable men for the jobs that they’re given. There’s no bias towards any political party in regards to my appointments, and I would very much like it if you would stop implying that there is.”

“I’m not _implying_ anything. I’m stating a fact, and if there wasn’t some truth to it, you wouldn’t be getting as angry as you are now.” Thomas crosses his arms defiantly. “So, are you gonna tell me why Hamilton is the only person in this Cabinet with a voice, or are you gonna keep wasting my morning?”

“If Secretary Hamilton had the only voice in this Cabinet, would we be having this conversation right now?”

“Yes.” He glares. “We would. You always let Hamilton intervene in everything that goes on in me and Knox’s departments, but the second that we try and give our opinions on stuff in the Treasury, we’re crossing boundaries. Perhaps I need to remind you that Hamilton isn’t the Secretary of State, nor is he the Secretary of War. He’s the Secretary of the _Treasury_ , and he ought to keep his nose out of the affairs of the other departments and in the Treasury.”

“I ask for Secretary Hamilton’s opinions on the affairs in your departments because the affairs of the State and War Departments are too big to be made by a single person.”

If Washington weren’t the president, Thomas is certain that he would have punched him in the face. “So me and Knox, and only me and Knox giving you our advice on the affairs in _our_ departments is too much, even though we ask the opinions of others when preparing to give you advice, yet Hamilton having an entire financial system that he can do _anything_ he wants with isn’t?”

He can see Washington tense up. “What exactly are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that Hamilton is taking advantage of you,” Thomas lowers his voice down so that it’s gentler, but still audible. Slowly, cautiously, he reaches out and takes one of Washington’s hands. “Look, I know that it’s hard to accept, but he is. The George that I remember– the George that was my friend– would never treat anybody the way that you’ve treated me as of late. And he certainly wouldn’t put the opinions of an ambitious _Northerner_ over the opinions of a friend that he’s had for over twenty years.”

Washington stays silent, so he takes the opportunity to continue. “Just think about it, George. How many of the problems in the Cabinet have been created because of Hamilton and his insistence on always arguing with me, or because he refused to listen to James’s advice? How many times has he gone ahead and disobeyed your wishes? What would the George that I remember think if he saw you now? What would your brother think?” He pauses for a few seconds, takes a deep breath, and squeezes his hand. “What would Lafayette think?”

They briefly share the same pained look into each other’s eyes after the mention of Lafayette, and for a moment, Thomas smiles hopefully. Maybe, just _maybe_ , Washington will actually take into account what he’s saying and start limiting the powers of that ambitious weasel, if not get rid of him altogether.

But then Washington pulls his hand away from him, and he knows that it won’t be so easy. “How _dare_ you try and use Lafayette to make me feel guilty?” He says apprehensively, his voice cracking as he talks and blinks any tears away. “How _dare_ you?”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty,” Thomas tries to reassure him by taking his hand again, but Washington quickly snatches it away. “I’m just saying that he would be upset and hurt to see you like this.. He would be shocked that you would treat your friend like this, and even more so that you would treat him like how you’re treating him now.”

“And how are you so certain that Lafayette would react like that?”

“Because Hamilton told you to let him rot in _prison_ !” He throws his hands up in the air in disbelief. “How would he _not_ be hurt and upset after finding out that the man that he considers to be his father listened to some power-hungry bastard and let him stay in such subhuman conditions because it was politically convenient to do so?”

“Secretary Hamilton and I agreed with our ambassador to France that it would be better for us not to intervene with Lafayette’s imprisonment because we have to remain a neutral power in this war,” Washington coughs to clear his voice, and then continues. “As much as it pains me to say it, we can't give Lafayette any special treatment, nor can we support or fund any attempts to help rescue him from his captors.”

“No special treatment? Are you fucking serious? Lafayette risked everything that he had to come and help fight for this country’s freedom! You and Hamilton promised him that we would be France’s closest and most trusted allies, but the _second_ that it wasn’t convenient for you to honor the treaty that we signed with them, you decided to take Hamilton’s word for it and break not only Lafayette’s trust, but France’s trust as well. The people over there need our assistance with their revolution, but no, you would rather bring us back to licking British boots than help our friends in need!”

“That’s enough, Secretary Jefferson.”

“No, it’s not enough!” Thomas stands up from his seat on the table and meets Washington’s gaze. “You’re too stubborn and prideful to own up to the fact that you’ve got a bias towards that rat Hamilton, and you refuse to hear anything that I try to say about him even though everyone else agrees with me! And now you’re trying to justify all of the shitty ass decisions that the two of you have made? I thought that the entire point of gaining independence was so that we could be free from England, but between you and Hamilton, this government is turning into the second coming of the British Empire. I can’t believe that I actually tried to convince myself that you would listen to me if I tried to reason with you, nor can I believe that I ever thought that you were a good, honest person who was my friend, when all you are is a selfish ass!”

“I said that that’s enough!” Washington finally snaps, slamming one of his hands down on the table and startling him. “I’ve had it up to here with you and your mouth, Secretary Jefferson! Since you’ve come back from France, you’ve been nothing but trouble for me and the other members of this Cabinet, and I _refuse_ to tolerate your insubordination and slander any longer. Time after time again I’ve tried to build bridges between you and Secretary Hamilton, but every time I try, you reject my offers of peace. I might not be entitled to your companionship anymore, but I beg you not to forget that I’m still your superior, because I can promise you that I have not, and I guarantee you that if need be, I can find another man that’s just as capable of doing your job as you are now.”

For a moment, Thomas is shocked, even hurt, at what Washington had said, but soon the shock and hurt wears off and turns into pure rage. “Well if I’m so replaceable, then go ahead and do it, because I quit!” He practically shoves Washington out of his way and grabs his remaining papers off of the table, folding them up into smaller squares and then quickly shoving them into the pockets of his coat. “To quote your dear Secretary Hamilton, you can kiss the blackest part of my ass!”

He woke up today feeling at least somewhat hopeful that he might he able to repair his relationship with his job, but if Washington thinks that he’s so easy to get rid of, then fine. He’s sick and tired of his hard work not being appreciated, his voice not counting, his position constantly being undermined, and everything else about that fucking job. He won’t even bother anymore– he’ll sell his houses, pack up his shit, go back to Monticello, and live as a farmer in peace until the next election hits and he’ll be able to run for president. Better to lose the battle than to lose the entire war, after all.

Washington sighs. “Thomas, wait..”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” It’s not until he turns around to exit that he sees the look on Washington’s face has softened considerably, and his angry look has been replaced by a frown, one that makes him look as if he were an old, rotting pumpkin. “Oh, what’s the matter?” Thomas scoffs. “You were just talking all of that good shit a second ago, and then I fucking _quit._ I thought that I was replaceable though, right? Isn’t that what _you_ said? Go on, tell which of your Federalist rats is going to replace me!”

Washington stays silent, so he snorts and shakes his head. “I knew it.” He starts to laugh, both genuinely and condescendingly, and he sighs in relief once he’s calmed his laughter down. “You’ve really fucked up, huh?”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, I know that you didn’t mean it, _Georgie_.” Thomas smiles smugly. “But the difference between you and I is that I don’t forgive as easily.”

He starts to walk towards the door, but Washington quickly steps in front of him and blocks his path. “You can’t just quit,” He insists.

“Watch me.”

“Secretary Jefferson, please.” Washington puts his hands up and takes a deep breath. “I know that I spoke out of turn, and I said some hurtful things, and I apologize for that. But you can’t just spontaneously quit your job like this. You’re an integral part of this Cabinet.”

“An integral part of this Cabinet that constantly has his position undermined by some upstart New Yorker.” Thomas says bluntly. “No offense, but I would literally rather die than spend another second in this job.”

“I promise you, I’ll start taking your opinion into account more if you give me the chance.”

“No, you won’t.” He rolls his eyes.

“I will.” Washington reassures him, his tone pleading as Thomas scoffs.

“You won’t.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.”

“I _will_.”

“No, you _won’t_!” Thomas snaps again. “And nothing that you say, or do, will ever make me wanna go back to that nightmare that you call a job!”

Washington practically gasps in shock at Thomas’s outburst, which makes him roll his eyes. Is he really going to judge him for having an outburst, like he didn’t just slam his hand onto a table and startle him? “Well, you insist that there’s nothing that I can do to stop you,” Washington lets out a loud, defeated sigh. “All I ask is that you least give me the time to find a proper replacement.”

“Oh? What happened to you saying that you can easily find a replacement for me?” Thomas smiles that same condescending smile from earlier as Washington blushes in embarrassment. “You know what? Fine. I’m gonna be the bigger person for once and give you until the end of December to find a good replacement– but come New Years, I’m out for good, whether you’ve got a replacement for me or not.”

He can tell by Washington’s facial expression that he’s clearly surprised by the amount of time that Thomas has given him, which is, honestly, fair. He would have made the timeframe shorter had it not been for the fact that James’s Congress sessions will be starting up again in December, and he’ll almost certainly be impacted by the news that he’s leaving, especially given that he spends nights with him more often than not. Shit, that reminds him. How _are_ him and James gonna manage while he’s at Monticello full-time?

He forces himself not to think about it too much as he lightly bows his head to Washington, says some words of gratitude– or apology, he honestly doesn’t know what he said– and retreats from the room, but as he walks down the stairs of Washington’s foyer, the realization fully hits him: he _quit_.

No more Cabinet meetings. No more having to stand by and endorse acts that he doesn’t support. No more having to scream and shout to get Washington to pay attention to his ideals. No more being upstaged by Hamilton... Wait. _No more Hamilton._

Oh, the thought of no more Hamilton is _exhilarating_ for him. After Washington finds a replacement, he’ll never have to deal with Hamilton’s self-importance ever again. He’ll never have to see that horrendous green coat ever again, hear his annoying voice again, or even think about him again. The concept of no more Hamilton seems like a blissful dream, one that he can’t wait to fall asleep for.

If he’s lucky, Washington will be able to find a replacement as soon as possible, but knowing his shitty luck lately, it’ll probably take him the full five months to find a new replacement for him. After all, not everyone is as smart as he is, nor are they as knowledgeable about the affairs of the European nations as him. If everything goes the way that he hopes it will, then Washington’s next pick for Secretary of State will be a complete disaster at his job– and, hopefully, it’ll weaken Washington’s administration in the eye of the public and cause the reputations of his Cabinet members to crash and burn. Except Knox, that is. He still thinks that he’s pretty cool.

“Bye, Sam,” He calls out as Washington’s stewart opens the door for him, letting out a loud yawn as he walks outside. God, he almost forgot that it’s still the morning time, and his day is already shitty. Fucking Washington, always calling their Cabinet meetings too early. Oh well, at least now he can go home and sleep.. shit, where did James go?

He turns his head when he hears the sound of a cough, but to his surprise, the cough doesn’t belong to James. Instead, it belongs to that toady Aaron Burr. “Where’s James?” He asks instinctively.

Burr blinks once, and then sighs. “Well, at first he tried to stop Secretary Hamilton and Knox from having a screaming match, and then I believe that him and Secretary Hamilton went for a walk somewhere. I don’t know where, but he told me to tell you that he would meet you at his place later.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief. Wait, so were you just standing there waiting for me to come out of that house the entire time?” Thomas shoves his hands into his pockets and feels around on the parchment in his coat’s pockets. He wonders if they would make a good enough weapon, although he’s not too sure that the papers would be able to do any damage to him.

“Yes. Well, no, it’s just..”

“Look, I’m sure that you have something _very_ interesting that you’d like to tell me, but I’m really not in the mood right now.” Thomas sighs. “I just cussed out the president, then I quit my job, and on top of that, I’m hungry, so… bye.”

“Wait! I have a proposition that I think you’ll like.” Burr calls out to him as he starts to leave, then straightens himself out and puffs his chest out in what Thomas guesses is an attempt to make himself look important.

Christ, this day just keeps getting worse. What did he do to deserve this? He turns around to face Burr. “Well, go on then. Tell me all about this spectacular offer.” 

“I know that you want Hamilton out of office.” Burr says bluntly. “I want him out of office, too. We can help each other to meet our common goal.”

Thomas raises an eyebrow. Of all of the things that Burr could have said, he wasn’t expecting that. “Wait, what’s your deal with Hamilton? I thought that y’all were like.. friends, or whatever.”

“We were friends, but we aren’t anymore.”

Huh. When did that happen? Last time he saw Burr– or really, the last time he cared enough to acknowledge his existence– him and Hamilton were the best of friends. According to Hamilton, at least.

He puts his hands on his hips impatiently. “And what will I gain from this partnership?”

“I know that you want to become president, and I can help you win the presidency.” He lowers in voice to a whisper, and smiles in self-satisfaction. “You’ll need New York to win it, and I can help you get New York. I’m popular with the folks upstate, as well as in the city. I can get you Jersey, too.”

“And what do you get in return?”

Burr takes a deep breath. “I want to be your Vice President.” He says finally. “You know as well as I do that you’ll need a Vice Presidential candidate from a Northern state if you want to have any hope of being the president, and I believe that I can be that candidate. And, if we work together to get Hamilton out of power, it’ll be one less thing that we have to worry about.” He holds out his hand for Thomas to shake. “Do we have a deal?”

He bites his lip, looking uncertain as he tries to weigh his options. On one hand, he can trust Aaron Burr as far as he can throw him– that’s probably the one thing that he agrees with Hamilton on. But, on the other hand, Burr actually seems sincere for once, and he does have a point that he’ll need New York to carry the next election… Not to mention, keeping your enemies close _is_ a good strategy.

Reluctantly, he reaches out to shake Burr’s hand. “Deal. Now, come on. I assume that we have a lot to discuss now, and I would rather it happen now so that I can leave this wretched city and go home.”

“Of course.” He nods his head eagerly; a bit _too_ eagerly, he notices. “Let me show you to my home.” 

“Well, alright,” Thomas starts to follow him down the street as Burr walks into the direction of his house. “I do hope that you have some food ready at your home, Senator Burr. I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. the cabinet battle that was featured in this story is based off of an actual cabinet meeting that happened in july of 1793, so i took that and i hamilton-fied it. and for those of you who are wondering: yes, hamilton did actually have a list of 21 questions against jefferson having 7 and henry knox having none. you can view the list of questions that they submitted to the supreme court [here](https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/01-26-02-0466-0001) – and, similarly, you can read the letter that the supreme court sent to washington refusing to accept them [here](https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-13-02-0263).
> 
> 2\. henry knox's frustration with hamilton's exceeding influence over cabinet proceedings is something that i actually found out is based in history! while his & jefferson's situations weren't the same by any means, his friendships with hamilton & washington did become slightly strained over time, and eventually reached a boiling point during the quasi war with france during adams's presidency. (washington, unsurprisingly on his part, made hamilton knox's superior in rank. knox was pissed.)
> 
> 3\. i have no idea when thomas jefferson and george washington actually met, but i do know that it was sometime between when they were both serving in virginia's house of burgesses in 1769 and the birth of jefferson's first child in 1772 (she was apparently named in part for martha washington). for the purposes of this au, assume that they met in 1769.
> 
> 4\. as i'm sure y'all are aware of already, lafayette fled france and was imprisoned in austria & prussia during the french revolution. and then, in a move that certainly shocked ppl, washington & his administration never openly advocated for his release! personally, i think it was because 1. they were a neutral power in the french revolutionary wars, and 2. lafayette was still considered a french citizen in the eyes of europe. but that's just my theory. speaking of, i just wanna say that lafayette will be in the story later, but that's all imma say about it because of #spoilers.
> 
> 5\. historically, thomas jefferson submitted his resignation letter on july 31st, something i found out after i was nearly finished with this chapter -- i was two weeks off of the mark! and, historically, washington was pissed when he did. he was apparently so upset that he resigned that after jefferson left the cabinet in december 1793, he never talked to him face-to-face again. you can read jefferson's resignation letter (that he forgot to actually give to washington in this chapter) [here](https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-13-02-0212)!
> 
> oh, and another thing: burr's face-claim in this AU is [joshua henry](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/383099809168490516/485611996822372359/image.jpg).
> 
> that's it, i think? see you guys next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> im on instagram! follow me @moonlitbears


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